Halloween is tomorrow. So basically, if you don’t have a costume for your child yet, you are totally hooped. Just kidding! Halloween is easy.
Here are five ideas Jac came up with in fifteen minutes, requiring zero trips to the store.
1. GHOST: Sheet over the head. Eye holes cut out. DONE.
2. FARMER: A pair of overalls (pants, shorts, dress … whatever) with a farm animal stuffy of any kind — sheep, cow, pig, chicken, duck, giraffe. Really, who cares? Giraffe farmers are adorable. Continue reading
Have you ever noticed how delightful children can be when they’re alone, and then how it all can just quickly go to hell when they’re together? If you put my children in a room together, 9 times out of 10 it will end in a disaster. Usually they will find some game that involves them crashing into one another, a game that they had both ABSOLUTELY AGREED UPON as an AWESOME GAME IDEA at the time, but 5 seconds of actually playing the game has taught them that they DO NOT LIKE THE GAME and MOMMY WHY WOULD YOU LET US PLAY THAT AWFUL AWFUL GAME WHY MOMMY WHY?
For example, this delightful exchange happened when A came to me crying after being in another room with his sister for all of 3 minutes. Continue reading
I’m not a big Halloween person, generally. I don’t decorate my house except with smiling pumpkins, and I don’t make scary snacks for my kids, or scary anything really. I don’t like gore or fake tombstones or enormous spiders, the fascination with evil or giving people nightmares … But despite all that, I still think Halloween is kind of awesome. Here’s why:
First of all, there’s obviously the candy. All the candy. With the definite exception of candy corn, which is terrible, candy is awesome. Continue reading
Alternate title: How Jac convinces Juli to do things.
Here’s what you need to know before you enjoy this glimpse into our Facebook Messenger conversations. 1) Jac has been on Instagram for a while and kind of loves it. 2) Juli is not on Instagram, but she chats on Facebook all the time and is an expert at conjuring perfect gifs, instantly.
Jac: Hey. I stole your picture from yesterday’s post and put it on Instagram. You don’t want me to tag you, do you? Or do you? You should start an Instagram account already, called onefunjuli. It’s fun over there and then we could interact with each other and it would be great!
Juli: Hi! You can tag me. I should start an account. I will get Spence to show me how. Continue reading
**Back in the early 70s there was a psychoanalyst and paediatrician named D.W. Winnicott whose research enabled him to develop the concept of the “Good-enough parent.” His position, according to research, was that all that children needed to grow into healthy, functioning individuals was at least one parent who is “good enough” — basically one parent who is devoted to the child and provides at least the essentials for the child to grow and develop. This is a concept that keeps me going on the days I fall short of perfection as a mother (so … every day). And so, for myself and all of you other good-enough mothers out there, I have written this poem, Please enjoy, and keep on keeping’ on.**
This is an ode to the good-enough mom
The mom who works hard even when nothing gets done,
Whose dinner consisted of toast and KD,
But your kids got fed, mom. That’s good enough for me. Continue reading
I have a clear memory of sitting on the couch in my first house with my brother, cuddling with my mom as she read to us. She must have done this often, with lots of different books, but there is one book in particular that I remember more than all the others. Perhaps I remember it best because my mom likes to remind us about how my older sister used to listen in to these read-aloud sessions and interrupt to give corrections when my mom skipped words or rephrased sentences. Or maybe it’s because I read it so many times over the following years that I myself eventually had all the best parts memorized. That book is I Want to Go Home by Gordon Korman, everyone’s favourite Canadian children’s fiction writer. Continue reading
For this week’s #FiveOnFriday, and in honour of Thanksgiving this weekend (or, for our American friends, just a plain ol’ regular weekend) we have decided to share five things that our kids seem to be thankful for that we are not. This is a grumpy way to discuss Thanksgiving, we realize, but we ARE thankful for so much, as evidenced by this Thanksgiving post from last year, and this, Jac’s most recent post on watching her daughter grow up. So I think we’ve earned a bit of grumpiness. Be grumpy with us, won’t you? If you think of anything that fits the category, add it in the comments! We love reading what you have to say.
1. Their stuffies. Their hundreds … of thousands … of stuffies. Stuffies in the closet. Stuffies under the bed. Stuffies piled on the bed leaving little to no room for the child whose bed it is. Stuffies in the family room. Stuffies in the bathroom. Stuffies on the kitchen table, the kitchen counter. Stuffies all up in my biznaz, yo. Continue reading
This week I took my children skating. Because, you see, they will both be having skating lessons through their school soon, and I wanted to take my youngest (who has never been skating) before her lessons start in a few weeks time, just as I did three years ago with her brother before her. My plan was simple — I didn’t take them so they could learn how to skate, I took them so they could learn how to fall.
I have full confidence in the skating teachers’ abilities to teach my kids how to skate. They will teach them how to weave around the little cones, and how to hold their arms out for balance, and even how to get up from the ice. But I know my kids pretty well by now, and they’re kind of like me, which I guess makes some genetic sense. Without support, without encouragement, without someone big telling them it’s okay, they are quite likely to give up. And stay given up. I remember the day I tried to learn snowboarding. Continue reading
We leave the house in the evening and walk to the barn to feed the cows, our family’s regular nightly chore. It’s just the two of us for once, so I don’t have to pay attention to the toddlers or nag your sister to hurry up. You walk beside me and you’re not sprinting ahead or lagging behind; you’re simply walking beside me, like another adult would. You tell me about something that happened that day at school with one of your friends and your teacher, and I’m half listening and half feeling grateful for this opportunity to spend time with this cheerful version of you, and not the argumentative and impatient one I’m seeing more of lately. See, you are definitely old enough now to realize that your parents are not perfect, not even close to perfect, but you’re not quite old enough to realize that your words and gestures matter to others and can even hurt your parents’ feelings. Right now, though, you’re simply happy. Continue reading
For today’s #FiveOnFriday, here’s a list of five things that happened yesterday, in just five minutes.
1) This conversation. Only, it happened three times, once with each child and then again with them together:
Me: Do you want to colour with those markers? You can only colour on the paper.
Me: Where do you colour:
Them: On the paper.
Me: Do you colour on the walls?
Me: Do you colour on your body?
Me: WHERE DO YOU COLOUR?
Them: On the paper. Continue reading